


Anything But a Joke

by L122ytorch



Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 17:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L122ytorch/pseuds/L122ytorch
Summary: The Joker takes Superman.





	Anything But a Joke

It was a makeshift lab. A consortium of torture and crude instruments. Typically the Joker didn't stray from fucking with The Bat, but recently he had become a little bit bored. It was easy enough to lure Superman to Metropolis, just wreak enough havoc on a large enough scale to require outside reinforcements. He knew The Batman was...well...not quite friends with Superman...but they worked together. Sure, coworkers, they were coworkers. 

In a way, Joker was even just a touch jealous of Superman. He was spending too much time with Batman, inching towards what could be considered friendship, and he couldn't have that could he? No...Batman needed to keep focused on him. So if Superman were to turn up dead...then he wouldn't be spending another second with the alien. But death was so quick and simple and Superman was interesting in his own right...he deserved to be poked and prodded, sliced and diced. 

That night in Gotham was unbearably muggy. Humidity hung in the air, casting large yellow halos around streetlights and choking the streets until it was apparent that the mist would descend into fog. The Joker spent the day as busy as a little bee, buzzing around the city spreading bombs, setting up robberies, he even ventured a kidnapping. By nightfall it was as if Gotham was a real life version of Minesweeper and the player had pressed all the wrong squares. He didn't even try to conceal his glee as windows in skyscrapers shook, yachts vomited up fireballs, security alarms in banks screamed into the void of night and police scrambled around like scattered mice.

The slick and sloppy red smile stretched wide as he saw the blur of red and blue approaching. He made sure to keep Batman occupied with good 'ole Gordon who was hanging from a precarious spot...and just like clockwork, Superman streaked across the sky.

A stomach curdling laugh ripped through Joker's lips as he hopped and clapped in place, the perfect place, right outside Gotham Investment Bank which was in the process of being robbed. Superman landed with a smack right in front of him, and although he could've hit the little red button begging to be pressed in his palm, Joker waited. He wanted to feel Superman's strong hand wrapped around his neck, he wanted to see his foe's bright green alien eyes burn with fury, he longed to be thoroughly scolded. Supe's mammoth hands could have so easily snapped his neck, but instead they squeezed...hard. And just as his vision became spotted with black and the last bit of air was slipping from the Joker's lungs, he pressed the button. 

The explosion was far enough away that it posed no threat to the Joker, but close enough that it had the potential to destroy Superman.

Asphault, rock, and glass rained down from the sky as the deafening BOOM was replaced with a jarring ringing in both their ears. Green smoke filled the haze smothered street and once the Joker managed to open his eyes he saw Superman laying on the ground before him, striped with cuts and leaking ruby red lifeblood. The Joker could barely contain his excitement at how seamlessly the plan had been executed...and now a helpless demi-god lay in the green glittering street before him like a waiting servant, helpless.

The trip to the Joker's makeshift torture chamber/medical facility seemed to take a lifetime. He was so impatient to unwrap Superman like a candy bar and explore him. Something about Superman's glittering green eyes really made his insides vibrate. They matched the little shards of Kryptonite that jutted out from his typically golden skin. He ran an excitedly shaking white hand through his equally emerald hair and swerved the car dangerously, furiously, until they were in the garage, the car being lowered several floors.

Fuck, Superman was so heavy. Getting him to the table was like dragging three hundred pounds of solid lead across the floor. The alien groaned in protest and twisted in pain, but his efforts were hilariously futile. Sweat clung to his disheveled jet black hair and his marbled Renaissance features distorted with every twist of Kryptonite. 

"Isn't this wonderful??" the Joker giggled as he strapped the hulking humanoid to the freezing examination table. "You're the perfect specimen," he looked down at the Superman and saw a jolt of fear flash across his face. 

This was the stuff of Clark's nightmares, the notion of being experimented on had haunted his every nightmare since he was a teenager in Smallville. And now he was at the mercy of the most demented villain he'd ever come across. The Joker scared him, and rightly so. His head continued to ring and throb long after the blast and the artificial lights stabbed at his eyes. He could feel blood trickling across his skin and heard the sickening tear of his suit being torn from his body.

Even more terrifying, the Joker was licking his lips. "You know...no woman could ever compare to Harley," he ran his cold hands over Clark's chest and down his abs. "She would burn the world down if I ever touched another woman without her permission...but men...she's fine with me having fun with men." 

Superman's blood ran cold. The Joker lowered his head to his and kissed his mouth...before moving down his neck and chest, smearing red lipstick and blood along the way. "I'm sure you know that The Bat is my main squeeze when it comes to men...but you Superman, you are divine," he purred. 

Much to Clark's relief, the Joker pulled away after that smattering of kisses and turned to a metal table behind him. Maybe Clark wasn't relieved after all. A glance to the left revealed that the table was filled with knives, scalpels, liquids in glass bottles, syringes...

The Kryptonite already had Clark's stomach turning inside out and his muscles convulsing in agony, he couldn't fathom any more torture at this point. Sweat covered his shaking body and he watched in horror as the Joker picked up a knife. 

The torture was only made worse by the Joker's incessant rambling. Maniacal green eyes scanned Clark's body constantly as the Joker enjoyed making nicks, cuts, bruises and slashes along his shaking flesh. When the Joker finally put the last knife down, Superman didn't know whether to be relieved or frightened. The next thing the Joker picked was a needle. He shoved it unceremoniously in a vein in Clark's arm and grabbed what looked like an IV bag. The liquid inside of the bag was tinted green. 

Terror slid down Clark's spine, this was it. 

He'd thought about dying before. Usually when he pictured his demise it was against a backdrop of glory and battle, not at the hands of a lunatic. He was still so young...only eight years out of Smallville...just twenty-seven years old. There was so much he wanted to do, so many things he needed to say to so many people. The only comforting thought that passed through his mind was the notion that he would finally be reunited with his dad. Tears rolled down his face as the Joker connected the IV. "Poetic isn't it?" the Joker asked with a curled up smile. "Now it's the hero who needs saving, and no one is coming." 

The foreign liquid entering his body was freezing cold and he could feel every cell from his soul to his skin scream in protest. In those few moments before the doors exploded open, Clark was busy making peace with the idea of death; so the flash bang of someone's startling entrance caught him off guard. The pain was so intense that he couldn't even focus on the dim glint of hope that the idea of rescue had sparked in his chest. 

The Joker had rushed towards the foot of the table and fought with someone. Clark could only make out the gaudy purple of The Joker's suit mingling with a black blur. There were signs of a fight, sounds of a struggle, and with a thud, the purple suit dropped to the floor.

"Clark!" a familiar voice shouted. He felt a rush of wind across his flesh and slight pain as the IV was ripped right out of his arm. "Jesus, talk to me Clark!" the face speaking those words came into view. 

The owner of the voice was bald, with smoky blue gray eyes as violent as the sea, wearing an expensive black suit and silk tie. 

"Lex," Clark croaked. 

His outstretched arms were in the process of being freed. Lex undid his left wrist and arm and flew to the other side of the table to work on the other arm. He was also grasping at the shards of Kryptonite still jutting out from Clark's skin, yanking them out and tossing them far away. 

"What did he do to you?" Lex's voice shook. But Clark couldn't answer, he was too occupied writhing in pain. Lex turned his head towards the door and addressed his crew. "Get The Joker the fuck out of here," he spat. "And get the helicopter ready." His minions did as they were told, dispersing to fulfill their duties. 

He turned his eyes back towards Clark. His former friend was unnaturally pale, shaking, sweating, his teeth chattering. 

"Tell me Clark, tell me what he did to you!" 

As the last restraints were unfastened, Clark turned and rolled off the examination table, taking himself and Lex to the ground. Luthor scooped his upper body into his lap and held him, his face just inches away.

"He p-put Kryp...tonite in..in..an IV..." Clark managed to get out. "I'm... p-probably al...already..a dead m-man L-L-Lex," tears began tumbling down his face.


End file.
